BOUND TO THE BEAST I HATE

The night Lyra’s world ended began with silence, not the peaceful kind, the kind that settles over a village after a long day’s work, where laughter fades and lanterns dim. No, this silence was wrong, heavy, pressing, like the air itself was holding its breath. Lyra felt it before she understood it. She stood by the small wooden window of their home, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of the curtain. Outside, the moon hung low and swollen, casting a pale glow across the quiet village. Everything looked normal, too normal, a chill ran down her spine. “Lyra?” her mother called softly from behind, “Come to bed, child.” “I will,” she replied, but her voice didn’t sound like her own, something was coming, she didn’t know how she knew. She just did, then a howl, it tore through the silence like a blade. Lyra froze. Another followed, closer this time, deeper, not just a sound, but a warning, her heart slammed violently against her ribs. “Inside. Now!” her father’s voice thundered as he rushed toward the door, grabbing the heavy wooden bar to secure it, but it was already too late. The first scream came from outside. It was cut short. Lyra’s breath caught as chaos exploded into life, crashing, screaming. The sound of splintering wood, and beneath it all, the growls, not human, never human. Her mother grabbed her arm, “Don’t look outside!” But Lyra already had, and she saw them. Shadows moving too fast, too large, eyes glowing in the dark like embers in a dying fire. Wolves, No, worse than wolves, they moved with intention, with intelligence, with rage. A body was thrown across the street like it weighed nothing. Lyra’s stomach twisted violently. “Get to the back,” her father ordered, gripping a blade that looked far too small for what was coming. “If anything happens, run.” “No!” Lyra shook her head, tears burning her eyes,“I won’t leave you!” “You will,” he snapped, grabbing her shoulders, his voice softened just a fraction, “You will survive,” a loud crash shook the door, the wood splintered, another hit, and it cracked. Lyra’s breath came in sharp, panicked gasps, then the door burst open. It didn’t just break, it exploded inward, and they came with it. Massive, dark, covered in blood that wasn’t theirs. Her father lunged forward, blade raised, but he didn’t stand a chance, the creature moved too fast, a flash of claws, a sickening sound, and he was gone. “Dad—!” Her scream ripped from her throat, raw and broken. Her mother pulled her back, but Lyra fought, reaching, desperate. Another wolf lunged. Her mother shoved Lyra aside. “No!” Blood. Too much blood. Lyra hit the ground hard, her vision blurring as the world collapsed around her. Everything slowed, the fire started somewhere behind her, spreading, consuming, devouring everything she had ever known. And through the flames, he appeared. He didn’t rush, he didn’t frenzy like the others. He walked. Tall, commanding, his presence alone silenced the surrounding chaos. The wolves moved around him, not as equals, but as subordinates. He was their leader. Lyra felt it instantly, even before she saw his face, even before their eyes met. He stopped a few steps away from her, for a moment, the world went still, the fire crackled, smoke curled into the night sky, the screams faded into nothing, there was only him and her. His eyes, glowing, unnatural, terrifying, locked onto hers. Lyra couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, fear rooted her to the ground, but something else twisted deep in her chest, something she didn’t understand. Recognition, No. That wasn’t possible. He tilted his head slightly, studying her. As if she were something… unexpected. Then his gaze flicked to the burning house behind her. To the bodies, something changed in his expression. Just for a second, gone before she could name it. Regret? No. Monsters didn’t feel regret, he stepped closer. Lyra’s body finally responded, she scrambled back, her hands slipping in ash and blood. “Stay away from me!” She choked. He didn’t listen. Of course, he didn’t. He was a monster, a killer, the one who took everything from her. He crouched slightly, bringing himself closer to her level. And then, he reached out. Lyra flinched violently, expecting pain, death. But it didn’t come. His hand hovered just inches from her face. Not touching, not harming, Just… there, His jaw tightened. Something unreadable flickered across his face. Then a voice called from behind him. “Alpha.” The word cut through the moment like a blade. Alpha, of course. He was the one, the one who led them, the one who destroyed her life, his hand slowly dropped, the moment shattered. Whatever hesitation had existed vanished behind something colder, harder, he stood, turned away.“Burn it,” he ordered. Just like that, like her life meant nothing. Lyra’s chest constricted painfully, “No…” she whispered, her voice breaking, “No—please—” But no one listened. The flames rose higher, the heat became unbearable, and as everything around her turned to ash, Lyra made a silent promise, her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms, her tears dried, replaced by something far more dangerous. Hatred. “I’ll find you,” she whispered into the fire. “And I’ll kill you.”